


In the Lap of the Gods

by BrianMaysLegs



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alpha Roger, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Freddie, Beta John, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Brian, Omega Verse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-29 14:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17809286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrianMaysLegs/pseuds/BrianMaysLegs
Summary: Omega verse Queen! Brian's a closeted Omega, trying to make it past the stereotypes to make it in the music industry. Roger was a non-mated Alpha, sating his desire with a long string of one-night-stands. One tour, Brian becomes infatuated with Roger, and realises just how scared he is from his past relationship, many years prior. But he's surprised to find that Roger actually cares about him, that he is willing to help him heal, willing to show him that not all Alphas are douche bags.Lots of flashbacks, with rape/non-con graphic violence. Will note which chapters have them if you want to skip them.





	1. Good Company

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing an Omega verse fic, so bare with me. Feel free to leave comments!

Life wasn’t exactly ‘simple’ for Brian May. He was a famous rock guitarist, a songwriter and a vocalist in the band Queen. He had three close friends, his three band mates, and a habit of becoming infatuated with someone new every tour. But their drummer, Roger Taylor, had someone new every day. Why was it worse for Brian? Because Roger was an Alpha, it was more ‘acceptable’ for him to sleep around, to have someone new on his arm every time you saw him. Brian? Brian was an Omega. That meant it was his ‘job’ to bare children, to look after them, not to be touring all over the world in a band.

             

He worked around this. Only the band and the people who worked closely with them knew, it was a secret to everyone else. Most people knew Roger was an Alpha, and presumed that the rest of the band were Betas, just like them. It would be considered ‘not rock’ to have an Omega in the group, especially one that wasn’t mated to an Alpha. The band only found out when they were on a week-long writing spree, and Brian’s heat started in the middle of it, causing him to cower away like normal, to stop himself from doing something he’d regret, like the certainly would if he stayed around Roger.

 

An Omega’s heat was like a female’s period, it came around every now and again. However, it was usually every three months or so. When this happens, the Omega in question… well, they get super horny for a few days, and just wants to get fucked. It’s an evolutionary thing to allow child bearing easier. The Omega is more fertile, more willing, easier to screw. Any Alphas around them… they’ll be affected, too. They can go into what they call rut, where they get aggressive and territorial of the Omega. And there’s like… a pheromone released that makes them horny too. Basically Omega’s want to get fucked, and Alphas are more than willing to fuck them.

 

Which is not a fun idea when you’re Brian and Roger and you _don’t_ want to end up in bed together, with possible spawn as an outcome.

 

Which is the other problem. This tour, Brian’s particular infatuation really surprised him. It wasn’t a random passer by, a groupie with a VIP pass to their show, someone who was just nice to him. It was Roger. He couldn’t get the drummer out of his head. How his toned chest would feel against his own, how he would bang him like he banged his drums, how his messy hair would look—

 

He shook his head. He couldn’t allow this fantasy to take foot, to come to fruition to—

 

He wondered what Roger would sound like. Would he moan? Was he a rough lover? Brian thought he would be, given his long string of one-night-stands. He couldn’t image Roger being gentle, getting attached to all those woman, all those men. All those Omegas, those Betas, just wanting a piece of the action.

 

He wanted a piece.

 

“You alright there, Bri?” John asked, concern on his face.

 

John Deacon, their bassist, was a sweet man. He was shy, quiet, but had valuable input, and was a talented musician. Brian often found himself envying his friendship with Roger, it seemed so effortless, so easy. Roger, despite his ‘tough man’ act, was really quite sweet, kind, smart, and he would be the first one beside John to support him, to make sure he was okay.

 

One of Brian’s favourite pictures was from a concert in… Germany? He and Freddie were playing ‘Love of My Life’, a duet piece for the two of them. Brian was on a stool, acoustic guitar on his lap, Freddie was motioning next to him, microphone in hand. Roger and John were sitting on the drum rises, Roger with his arm around John, John leaning into Roger’s side as they both watched.

 

“I’m fine, Deacy,” Brian smiled, lying.

 

John rolled his eyes, “You’re a horrible liar, Brian.”

 

Brian went wide eyed, shocked, “What do you mean?”

 

“You’ve been lost in thought all day, something’s obviously on your mind. Out with it. Is it your new infatuation? Who is it this time? Anyone I know?”

 

Brian couldn’t think of how to answer, John knew him too well, and he wasn’t the best at coming up with convincing answers on the fly, “No, just some girl I met the other night. She was quite nice, but I don’t want to go down my usual path of liking her and then hurting her—” John was listening patiently, and Brian was beginning to feel calmer due to the Beta’s scent, “Damn it, John.”

 

John smiled, “I can’t help it! But I know you’re lying again. There’s no girl, but there is an infatuation already.”

 

“What do you mean ‘already’? The tour’s almost over!”

 

John chuckled, “I guess it is. I didn’t realise.”

 

Freddie and Roger came in then.

 

“Hello, darlings!” Freddie announced in his usual flamboyant way.

 

Freddie Mercury, the band’s vocalist, was also a Beta, but he was gay, meaning that he dated Alphas or Omegas, preferably men. Traditionally Betas dated other Betas, so they could reproduce, like John and his wife Veronica.

 

Roger Taylor. The man in question. The drummer, the Alpha, the smart ass and the womanizer. The man who was really quite kind, smart, caring, who acted tough to fit the stereotype. The man who looked like he was having an inner battle with himself.

 

“Are you alright, Roger?” John asked.

 

Roger looked at them, and Brian faintly recognised the look on his face. It reminded him of when he was in heat and trying to function normally, a feat but manageable. Alpha’s had ruts, but they were rarely not caused by an Omega’s heat. They rarely happened naturally. And if Roger was having a rut, then Brian was screwed, his self-control was shaky at best now, he wouldn’t—

 

Roger’s scent reached Brian, and he stiffened. Roger was certainly having a rut, and Brian would not last long in the same room as him, not with his musky scent filling the room, melting away his self-control, his inhibitions. The two of them locked eyes, Roger silently apologising, but with the possessiveness shining through. Alphas are naturally protective, territorial, possessive, whereas Omegas naturally are submissive. Brian wasn’t the typical Omega, but sometimes he couldn’t help it, some times like this. He just wanted to snuggle up to Roger, to feel safe in his arms. Or splay himself out for him, beg him to knot him. He couldn’t decide what.

 

Roger saw Brian’s turmoil, he knew the affect he’d have on him, but they needed to play this show. He was hoping that the rut suppression medication he took would’ve helped, but it didn’t seem to. He was now hoping that the adrenaline of the show, the smell of the audience, would mask the scent he was producing. He was hoping that it wasn’t strong enough to induce his heat. Roger would feel like a complete asshole if Brian disappeared over the next few days, locked in his hotel room, riding out his heat alone like always.

 

Brian used the excuse of needing to get changed to slip out of the room. It was a thin excuse, one that was obviously a ruse to Roger, but he understood why Brian needed to leave, to get air. Brian did, indeed, get changed. And as he did so, his mind wandered, imagining jf it was Roger undressing him, if it was Roger’s hands on his skin, Roger’s—

 

He needed to stop thinking about it, it was making him aroused. He was already trying his hardest to prevent that, and here he was, sabotaging himself. He felt slick wet his boxers, and sighed. Hopefully the concert would take his mind off it, hopefully this would clear up by the end of the tour, and everything would go back to normal.  


	2. Flick of the Wrist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is strangely popular? I love all y'all and I'm so happy that you're enjoying it! Stuff starts to get interesting.

The concert did not have the desired affect on either of them. It strengthened Roger’s rut, and heightened Brian’s senses. A combination ready for disaster. They both vented their emotions, their frustrations into their playing, with Roger feeling a tad better afterwards than Brian due to the catharsis that is drumming.

             

Brian disappeared quickly after the show, trying to control his body’s desires for sex of any kind, but preferably some with Roger. His breathing was heavy, his body slick with sweat both from the show and from his… predicament. He needed to get to his room, he needed to get far away from Roger, from his scent, from _him,_ before—

 

“Are you alright, Brian?”

 

Brian turned, to find Roger looking at him, concern playing in his eyes, “No, Roger, actually, I’m not fine, but thanks for asking,” He didn’t mean to snap at him, but he was… emotional to say the least.

 

Roger backpedalled, “I’m sorry… I, ahh, I took suppressants in an attempt to help.”

 

“Why are even in a rut? Were you sleeping around all day or something?”

 

Roger rubbed his neck nervously, “I don’t know, to be honest, it kind just… happened.”

 

“Well, forgive me if I can’t stay and talk,” Brian said, desperate to get out of the room, it was quickly filling with Roger’s musky scent, and was suffocating him. His body was reacting in the expected way, by producing slick to allow the sex it was expecting to be easier, quicker. It was embarrassing for Brian, and he was praying that Roger wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t smell it or the scent he was sure was being secreted.

 

The sweet smell made its way to Roger, and hit him. It shot through his body, filling him up with desire, and he felt his blood rushing to fill something else up…

 

“Roger?” Brian asked, noticing Roger’s blue eyes turning black.

 

Roger rushed forward, his hands grabbing Brian’s face, their lips meeting. He kissed Brian with vigour, desperate. He had been desperate for relief for hours, and it was unbearable. He was backing Brain into a wall. Brian pushed him off.

 

“What are you doing?” Brian asked. He wanted Roger so bad, he wanted to feel his body against his, but he also didn’t want it to happen just because he was having a rut, and it was pushing Brian towards his heat.

 

Roger was stunned, “I’m… ahh… horny?” He chuckled.

 

Brian laughed, “I got that idea, Rog.”

 

Roger titled his head, really looked at Brian, “You want it, I want it, what’s the problem?”

 

“The problem is that you’re in a rut, and just want to get laid. I don’t want you to wake up in the morning and regret this, I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.”

 

Roger stepped closer, leant in to whisper in Brian’s ear, “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long, so if anything, this was the push I needed.”

 

Brian bit back a moan, and felt a flush of heat run through his body. His heat had been triggered fully. Roger was breathing in Brian’s scent when it happened, it changed, became sweeter, and kicked his body into overdrive.

 

“Fuck,” Roger swore and captured Brian’s mouth again. The kiss was desperate, full of hunger and desire. Brian was working at Roger’s already undone shirt, and pushed it off his shoulders. Roger showed no such consideration and just tore Brian’s shirt from him.

 

“Rog—ahh, Roger,” Brian managed.

 

“What?” Roger asked, annoyed.

 

“Can… can we at least go back to the hotel? I’d rather not be knotted on the bare floor.” Brian’s voice was deep, his eyes dark, his breathing laboured. He was as desperate as Roger, but wanted them to be comfortable.

 

Roger stared at him for a moment, “ _Fine._ But I’m driving.”

 

Brian knew what that meant; that meant the Roger would be speeding and the good thing is at least it wouldn’t take long. He put his shirt back on, frowning at the broken buttons, and followed Roger out the back way to avoid the others, and held on for dear life as he drove them back to their hotel.

 

“You’re in heat, aren’t you?” Roger asked on the way.

 

Brian was needy, he was desperate, and he also could feel that his underwear was soaked through, “I might be.”

 

“I can smell it,” Roger smirked, his own arousal straining against his jeans, “Is it my fault.”

 

“Yes, you bastard.”

 

Roger chuckled, “Usually this works the other way around,” He shrugged, “All’s well that ends well.”

 

Brian, in a moment of clarity, asked, “What is this, Roger?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Like, is this just another notch on your belt, another one-night-stand? Are you going to send me home in an hour, or even worse, ride out my heat and then act like nothing ever happened? What is this to you?”

 

Roger took a moment to formulate his response, “It’s more than that, Brian. This is whatever you want it to be. If you want a mindless fuck, if you want someone to ride out your heat with you, then fine. But if you want a relationship, then I’m open to that.”

 

Brian looked at him, confused, “You are?”

 

Roger shrugged, “Is that what you want?”

 

“I’ll tell you what; I’ll answer that when I’m not out of my mind with lust. However, having someone to be with for the next few days does sound nice.”

 

“Good, because I probably won’t be able to tear myself away from you like this,” Roger stated, his possessiveness coming out.

 

They pulled up to the hotel then, and Roger all but ran inside, Brian’s hands caught in his. They raced to the elevator, and resumed their desperate kisses, their frenzied touches. Brian’s room was conveniently closer, in the back of his mind Brian was thankful for this, because he knew that he had what they needed to ride out his heat.

 

Brian was fumbling with his room key, and Roger was not helping. He had wrapped himself around Brian’s back, buried himself in his neck, and was marking him.

 

“Fuck,” Brian moaned, “Can’t you wait _5 seconds_ for me to open the door?”

 

To answer his question, Roger rutted against him, giving himself some relief from the pressure building in his pants.

 

Brian managed to open the door, and almost fell inside. Roger pushed Brian onto the bed, and climbed over him seductively, tearing his shirt off again. He showed the same regard for his pants.

 

“You really have no regard for my clo— _shit._ ” Brian cut himself off, groaning, as Roger fingered over his slick, sensitive hole.

 

“No, I do not,” Roger said, undressing himself more carefully, “Especially not when I have a hot Omega underneath me, in heat.” He resumed his position between Brian’s legs, began pulling his boxers down.

 

“Well, when you put it like that.”

 

Roger recaptured his lips, and was satisfied with himself when they were both finally undressed. Roger looked down at his handiwork, admiring Brian’s naked, lithe frame. Brian watched this, but found his eyes wandering down to Roger’s erect length. He was big. Brian didn’t know what he expected, but that wasn’t quite it. Roger was grinning.

 

“Like what you see?”

 

Brian blushed, but was beginning to lose himself completely to need, “Shut up and fuck me.”

 

“As you wish.”


	3. The Night Comes Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally fuck. Roger, of course, is a bossy bitch in bed. But Brian lets him. Mention of Brian's past relationship and that he was raped (only at the very end, so if you wish to skip, stop reading after the sexy times). Roger wants to kill a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today was productive, but this will be the last chapter until at least tomorrow. I'm so glad you are all enjoying it! I'll try to update regularly. I have a general idea of a good plot for this too. Mwah ha ha

Brian was practically pinning for it at this point. Roger was marking him, on the other side this time, his callused fingers making their way down to where Brian needed it most. Brian threw his head back, moaning, when Roger inserted a finger into him.

 

“Damn it, Roger— _fuck_! Just get on with it—ahh,” Brian writhed with pleasure as Roger bent a finger inside of him.

 

“What was that?” Roger murmured against Brian’s throat, breathing in his scent, feeling himself respond at the stimulation.

 

“ _Please,”_ Brian begged, _“Roger,_ I _need_ you.”

 

Roger hummed, stopping his ministrations, and licked his fingers clean, “Condoms?”

 

Brian stopped for a moment, trying to remember where they were, “Umm, drawer,” Brian pointed.

 

Roger pulled one out, rolled it down his length, and lined himself up to Brian’s slick entrance. With a slow roll, Roger pushed himself in, finding little to no resistance, “Fuck, you’re wet.”

 

Brian moaned, finally getting some relief, “Have you… never fucked an Omega… in heat before?” He managed.

 

Roger stilled, allowing Brian to adjust, shook his head, “No, actually.”

 

Brian was practically panting, “I’m surprised. You’re going to be… so worn out by the end of it, let me tell you. Move, Rog, please.”

 

Roger obliged, begin to thrust. It was more like a glide, and it felt so good. Their moan intertwined, and lust overcame their senses. Roger was groaning, his voice deep, close to Brian’s ear.

 

 “Touch yourself,” Roger ordered.

 

Brian moaned, “Yes, Roger.”

 

“Yes, Alpha,” Roger corrected.

 

“Yes, Alpha,” Brian responded.

 

The command did… things to Brian, triggered long dormant things, and he obeyed, his hand wrapping around his own straining length and stroking it with the rhythm of Roger’s trusts, which were getting faster, deeper, rougher. Roger’s hands were wrapped around Brian’s hips, practically pulling him into his length, and the grip was bruising. Roger watched intently as Brian writhed under his touch, pleasuring himself. They were both quickly approaching their climax through the combination of stimulation and the cocktail of scents in the air.

 

“Alpha,” Brian moaned, “Ahh—Fuck, you feel so good.”

 

Roger hummed, “So tight, so wet. Such a good Omega. Are you going to come for me?”

 

Brian nodded, his strokes faltering, “Yes, Alpha.”

 

Roger’s own hips stuttered, “And you thought you’d do so without my permission?”

 

Brian moaned at the loss as Roger pulled out, watched as he began to stroke himself.

 

“Please, Alpha,” Brian begged, “Please, knot me, let me come.”

 

Roger watched as Brian’s strokes became frenzied in the attempt to reach his climax.

 

Roger grabbed Brian’s wrists, pinned them onto the bed, “Beg,” He ordered. He loved the sound of Brian’s voice when he was like this, it was gruff, heavy with need. He was desperate, and Roger controlled him.

 

“ _Please, Alpha._ ” Brian begged, “Knot me, fuck me so hard that I won’t be able to walk tomorrow. So I won’t remember my name. Please, Alpha.”

 

Roger closed his eyes, bit back a moan at the sight of a naked, glistening Brian begging to be knotted. Curls of Brian’s mane were stuck to his forehead, the rest splayed out like his body. Roger was committing this sight to memory, and his grip on Brian’s wrists tightened. He lined himself up again, and resumed the rough thrusts.

 

Brian’s moans grew louder, a sign of him nearing the edge, “Can I come, Alpha? I’m close—please.”

 

Roger wasn’t going to last much longer himself, he could feel his knot forming, “Come for me, Brian.”

 

As if holding out for his command, and with the feeling of Roger’s knot forming in him, Brian came. He came harder than he had come before, and he tightened around Roger, causing him to come not soon after, his knot fully formed and holding them together. Roger released his tight grip on Brian’s wrists, and fell next to him, pulling Brian into his side to avoid discomfort. They laid like this, communicating silently, until Roger’s knot deflated.

 

“Damn,” Brian managed.

 

“I second that,” Roger said.

 

Brian was used to Alphas being rough, giving orders, using him for their release, but something about Roger gave him the idea that he… cared about him, about his pleasure, “Give me about an hour, then it’ll be round two.”

 

“An hour?” Roger asked, alarmed.

 

“Yeah. I’m in heat, Rog, for the next few days, all I want is to be knotted. I’m a horny mess. Why do you think I hide out here when it happens?”

 

Roger shrugged, “I thought it was like having a rut, where you can function normally if you tried.”

 

“You can. But it’s harder when you work in close quarters with an _Alpha,_ ” Brian said pointedly, “Makes it twice as difficult.”

 

“Right,” Roger said, “Well, I’m here now, so we’ll ride it out together.”

 

Brian paused, “Is it any different?”

 

“Is what any different?”

 

“Sex with an Omega. Is it any different while they’re in heat?”

 

Roger thought about this, “Wetter,” He laughed, “Feels better. But that could just be you being a better lay than the randoms I normal fuck.”

 

Brian rolled his eyes, “Right.”

 

“Is it different for you?”

 

Brian nodded, “More sensitive, easier. Better in general. And I can confirm that it is not just you, although you are more careful than my last mate.”

 

“I am? I’m not that careful, Bri,” Roger said, concerned.

 

Brian hadn’t though about his ex in so long, and that off-handed comment had the memories returning. They weren’t good memories; they were very, very bad. Ones he’d rather not remember.

 

He hadn’t realised that he was crying until Roger was holding him, rubbing his back to comfort him.

 

“It’s alright, Bri, you don’t have to talk about it, I won’t ask again.”

 

Brian shook his head, “He would take advantage of me, especially when I was in heat, the bastard.”

 

Roger frowned, “Took advantage?” He looked at the picture of hurt on Brian’s face and drew a conclusion that made him seethe in anger, “He raped you?”

 

Brian’s tears flowed quicker, a sob escaping, and he nodded, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling you this, I’m just really emotional in heat, so vulnerable, and I can trust you. You’re a good friend, Roger.”

 

“I want to fucking murder him.”

 

“Don’t give him the time of day, Rog, I don’t even know where he is anymore. I managed to leave him, and ran far, far away from that place.”

 

“Brian,” Roger said, “ _Brian.”_

 

Brian looked up at him.

 

“I will _never_ do _anything_ that you’re not okay with. _Ever._ You tell me if you’re uncomfortable with anything, and I will stop, okay?”

 

Brian nodded, sniffing, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologise, I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me. I will never use you like that, I promise.”

 

“Does that mean I have to put up with you more than I already do?”

 

Roger laughed, understanding what Brian was really asking; was he committing to a relationship? “Yes, I guess it does,”

 

Brian snuggled closer, “Thank you, Roger. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

 

“You say that now, but I have a feeling that we’re both going to be too tired to play next week after this.”

 

Brian chuckled, and drifted off to sleep.

 


	4. Stone Cold Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Brian's past relationship. Description of abuse and rape, so skip if it makes you uncomfortable.

To say that Brian wasn’t happy in his current relationship was an understatement. He ‘mate’, the Alpha he found himself stuck with, was a complete asshole. He was sexist, misogynistic, racist, all of the ‘ists’. He firmly believed that Brian shouldn’t have a job, shouldn’t be contributing to society in any way other than baring and raising children.

 

So what was he stuck doing? Nothing. He had nothing to do at home. So he started playing his homemade guitar to pass the time, started to write his own music. But hid all of the evidence before Nate could see it. Brian knew that he would not approve of it, at all, it was hard enough trying to convince him that Brian was too young to bare and raise children properly.

 

“You’re never too young to contribute to society,” Nate would say.

 

“We wouldn’t be able to raise them comfortably,” Brian said, “We’re barely scrapping by as it is.”

 

That was the first time Nate hit him. He reeled back, and slapped Brian across the face, “If you _ever_ suggest that I am not supporting this house hold again, then you will no longer be apart of it.”

 

Tears stung in Brian’s eyes as the pain in his cheek flourished, “Of course, Nate, I’m sorry.”

 

And the worst thing was that Brian started to believe it. He started to believe that it was his fault, that he really was useless for everything but childbirth and raising.  When Nate would come home from work in a bad mood, and take it out on Brian, he took it, thinking that he really had a part in it, that it was his fault.

 

He rarely left the house. There were many reasons for this. The main one was that he was covered in bruises. He had a black eye from when he got in Nate’s way when he was watching his game. A split lip from forgetting to put sugar in his coffee. A bruised cheek from not having dinner ready in time for Nate to come home. And countless other bruises that went unseen.

 

“Are you even listening to me?” Nate asked, drawing Brian out of his haze.

 

Brian looked over, recoiling slightly at the anger in Nate’s eyes, “Sorry, I was thinking.”

 

Nate scoffed, “I’m surprised it didn’t kill you.”

 

Brian had a degree in astrophysics, but Nate thought it was a ruse that he had to make himself look smarter, he didn’t think that Omegas deserved an education, let alone could achieve one.

 

“I said, _moron_ , that I wanted pizza for dinner.”

 

Brian hesitated, “But I’ve made your favourite—”

 

“Yeah, well, you suck at cooking and I want pizza. Meatlovers preferably. You can eat your horrible cooking.”

 

“But—” He was vegetarian, and Nate knew it. Both dishes had meat, both dishes disgusted him to eat, to prepare.

 

“You’re a ‘vegetarian’,” Nate said mockingly, “Like I give a shit, starve for all I care.”

 

Brian felt a wave of anger rush through him, “You can eat what I’ve prepared for you.”

 

Nate turned, “What did you just say?”

 

Brian froze, he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He took an instinctive step back when Nate stood, stormed over to him.

 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Nate yelled, inches from Brian’s face.

 

“I—I’ll order pizza,” Brian said softly, voice wavering. He was afraid, he could feel his body preparing for flight or fight.

 

Nate punched the wall beside Brian’s head, “You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to.”

 

“Of course, Nate,” Brian said, trying to defuse the situation.

 

Nate punched Brian in the stomach, watching him recoil into himself, “That’s Alpha to you.”

 

“Yes, Alpha,” Brian corrected, tears collecting in his eyes.

 

Nate tore Brian off the wall, threw him to the floor, “You’ll start showing me some respect, _Omega_ , or you’re going to fucking regret it.”

 

Brian hated being called Omega, even more so by Nate. He said it like they were lesser, just _things_ for him to play with, not real humans with feelings and thoughts.

 

Nate kicked him in the stomach, “Do you hear me?”

 

“Yes, Alpha,” Brian managed, trying his hardest not to cry. He refused to look weaker than he already did, not in front of Nate.

 

“Good,” Nate said, leaving him on the floor and going back to his game.

 

________________________________________________

 

Brian wanted to leave, but he didn’t know where he would go. He didn’t want to go to one of those ‘Omega help centres’, where they’d just pity him. But he was almost at the point where he’d rather be homeless than stay here.

 

He was in heat. Which was a horrible idea with Nate around. They hadn’t had sex in months, not since his last heat, when their relationship was… better. Brian wanted to lock himself away until it was over, but that would enrage Nate, and Brian did not want to do that.

 

The moment of truth had arrived, when Nate came home to see Brian laying on the couch, on his stomach, watching a movie. He was glistening with sweat, heating the room up with his body heat. Nate could smell the sweet scent of Brian’s slick immediately.

 

“You’re in heat,” Nate observed, his body reacting to the sight and smells.

 

Brian mumbled in affirmative, “That I am. I can move, if you want to watch your game.”

 

Nate had taken his jacket off, was making his way towards the Omega. “I think I have a better idea,” Nate said, his hands working at his pants.

 

“No, Nate, I’m not in the mood,” Brian said.

 

“Yes you are, you’re in heat, don’t lie to me.”

 

Brian had curled into himself, “I don’t want sex, okay? I just want to lie down.”

 

Nate ignored him, and had straddled Brian’s back, was working at the Omega’s own pants.

 

“Nate, please,” Brian all but begged, “I don’t want this, please just leave me alone.”

 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, you slut. You’re wet and ready for me, so I’m going to knot you, just like you want.”

 

Tears were coming to Brian’s eyes as he struggled against the weight on his back, “No, I don’t, I don’t want to be touched, Nate.”

 

Nate had Brian’s pants off, his own on the floor. There was nothing gentle about what he was doing, and he pushed himself into Brian, ignoring his sobs.

 

“Nate, please, stop, I don’t want to,” Brian begged again.

 

Nate continued to thrust, groaning, and pinned Brian’s hands against his back to prevent him from struggling.

 

It hurt. Brian may be in heat, but it still hurt. It was rough, and there was no allowing for him to adjust. He was crying freely now, with his wrists rubbing painfully against each other in Nate’s bruising grasp, and his already bruised hip being used as leverage. The pillow beneath Brian’s face was wet with tears, and when Nate knotted, he hid in it, refusing to look at him. He used the pillow to muffle the cry of pain when Nate forcefully pulled himself out before allowing his knot to deflate, and Brian lied there for god knows how long before he finally moved.

 

He needed to get out of here.


	5. Spread your Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I've done a good job getting y'all to hate Nate apparently... well wait until the end of this chapter, you'll hate him even more!! Aftermath of Brian's heat, they're just chatting. Discussions of domestic abuse and sexual assault. Roger really wants to kill a bitch now, and is possessive of Brian when Freddie gives them grief. I promise it'll get a little lighter sooner or later... just not the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no clue where I get these ideas from... my mind is a sick, twisted mess. I don't plan these things! I swear! I'm loving your comments, so keep leaving them!!

Brian woke up on the Monday morning feeling normal. He waited, and waited, and waited, but the feeling never came.

 

His heat was over. And he wasn’t a complete mess, for once. Maybe that was because he had someone to ride it out with. Someone who cared about him, someone who respected him, someone—

 

Roger groaned sleepily, turning over to see Brian staring at him, “Oh God, please, I don’t think I could last another round.”

 

Brian laughed, “Don’t worry, Rog, it’s over.”

 

“Oh, thank God! You were sucking me dry! Don’t get me wrong, it was amazing, best weekend ever, but a man can only give so much!”

 

Brian continued to laugh, “I forgot this was your first heat. I appreciate you staying, though.”

 

Roger smiling, “I appreciate you trusting me enough to stay.”

 

“I really surprised I’m not a complete mess like I normally am afterwards. The last time someone was with me in heat, it was not… fun, so I’m thinking that it has a lot to do with you, and for that I am grateful.”

 

“You’ve been alone every heat since?” Roger asked, surprised.

 

Brian raised an eyebrow, “Can you blame me?”

 

“No! No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just… it’s been at least 14 years, Bri.”

 

Brian thought about this, “I hadn’t realised it had been that long. I used my postgrad work as a distraction from it all, as an escape route, so I guess it must’ve been upwards of 15 years. Damn.”

 

“You’ve really found no one decent enough to be with in 15 years?”

 

“It’s not that, it’s that I haven’t found someone I trust enough to be around during it in 15 years.”

 

Roger was silent for a moment, “I feel… honoured.”

 

Brian laughed, “Well you caused it in the first place.”

 

“I didn’t mean to!” Roger chuckled, but it soon died off, “I can’t believe anyone would take advantage of you like that, hurt you like that. You’re such an amazing person. So smart, so talented, so humble—”

 

“Roger,” Brian cut him off, “You may think that, but he just saw me as a toy, as something lesser than him. No everyone is as kind as you.”

 

Roger shook his head, “If I ever see that douche, I will kill a bitch. And that bitch better be him.” He stopped, hesitated, “The scars on your waist, are they—”

 

“From him?” Brian finished, “Yes.”

 

Roger wanted to ask, but didn’t want to upset Brian.

  
“You can ask, Rog, it’s okay, you should know.”

 

“What happened?” Roger asked attentively.

 

Brian knew the scar Roger meant, and thought about how to formulate the story without having a break down himself, “Nate was… creative in his anger. Every time I stood up to him, I’d be punished in a new way, usually worse than the one before it. This wasn’t long before I left him, and he would be particularly tortuous in his punishments. We hadn’t had sex in months, and it had only been weeks since my heat, when he… you know,” Brian took a deep, shuddering breath, “He had brought meat hooks to hang animals in the kitchen, he liked to see my reaction, ignored the fact that it made me physically sick. He used those same meat hooks to…” He thought of how to word it, “Prevent me from leaving a certain spot.”

 

“He tied you down with meat hooks?” Roger clarified, anger lacing his voice.

 

Brian nodded, turning back to Roger with tears in his eyes, “He bound my hands, tied them to the rafters, bound my legs to keep them apart. Starved me. Induced my heat—” A loud sob cut Brian off, tears streaming down his cheeks.

 

Roger cradled Brian to him, “The sick fuck kept you as a sex slave.”

 

Brian nodded, his curls bouncing, “I guess he did. God, it was horrible, Rog. I was in hospital for weeks afterwards, they weren’t sure I would survive.”

 

Roger clenched his jaw to prevent himself from hurting Brian with the anger produced from his words, “Doing that to another human, especially you, makes me sick. You’re amazingly brave, Bri, and that’s all over now, you will never have to relive it.”

 

Brian nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He noticed that one of Roger’s hands was caressing the scar on his right side, as if to make the mangled flesh heal and take away the memories it brought with it. In an attempt to prevent the memories coming back full force, Brian started to sing to himself. It was one of his songs, “Sail Away Sweet Sister”, but he was butchering it with the sobs that broke out. It worked in calming him down, and Roger even started drumming his fingers along Brian’s skin.

 

“We should probably get going,” Brian said after a while, “The others are probably wondering where we are.”

 

As if on cue, Freddie barged into the room, “Brian, darling have you seen Rog—oh, there you are,” He beamed, looking between them suggestively.

 

“Hey, Fred,” Roger smiled.

 

Brian looked up, smiled weakly.

 

“Brian, dear, what’s wrong?”

 

“Just a tad emotional, Fred, don’t worry about me. It happens all the time.”

 

Freddie snorted, “So your heats finally done? Good. I don’t want to know what the two of you got up to, but it’s about fucking time.”

 

Roger and Brian both looked at him, confused, Brian sitting up.

 

“Oh, don’t act all innocent. You two have been fucking each other with your eyes all tour,” He rolled his eyes, waved them off, “But enough of that. We need to leave, we’re behind schedule and management is freaking out. If we don’t leave now, we won’t make the concert tonight.”

 

“Oh, shit, I forgot!” Brian went to get up, but realised that he was completely naked, “Uhh, we’ll be out soon, Fred.”

 

Freddie laughed and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

 

Roger turned to him, grinning, “Well I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

 

Brian laughed, “I don’t think the cat was ever in the bag to begin with.”

 

Roger laughed, and stretched out. Brian watched his muscles ripple under his pale skin, and smiled to himself.

 

“What are you smiling at?” Roger asked, getting up to find his clothes.

 

“Just how lucky I am to have you,” Brian admitted, still emotional from their previous conversation.

 

Roger smiled, “As low as that bar is,” He laughed, “I’m lucky to have you, too.”

 

Brian got up, slapped Roger’s bare ass, “Now stop being all lovey-dovey and get dressed.”

 

“With what clothes, my I ask?”

 

Brian shrugged and chucked him some of his clothes, “Just wear those, then.”

 

Roger shrugged, “They’ll float on me, but I’m not complaining,” He took a smell of the shirt in his hands and smiled, “Smells like you.”

 

Brian scoffed, pulling his shirt on, “Fancy that, my clothes smelling like me.”

 

“I’m surprised I don’t smell like you, to be honest.”

 

Brian laughed, “I’m pretty sure I smell like you, though. You marked me enough times.”

 

Roger blushed, “I get possessive,” He murmured.

 

“I noticed. I think you marked me more times then you knotted me, I should’ve kept count,” He undid the top button of his shirt to prove a point, “Look at that! You can’t see my skin under all of those marks!”

 

Roger looked up, realising just how much of Brian’s throat was covered in marks, and had a surge of possessiveness run through him. Brian was his, and those marks proved it, no one else would dare that him away now. He smiled, “I look good on you.”

 

Brian rolled his eyes, “You’re insufferable!” Brian didn’t really mind all that much. It had been too long since he had someone to rely on, an Alpha to take care of him, an Alpha that actually took care of him rather than just throwing his weight around like an asshole. He hadn’t realised just how much he’d need this, a caring relationship, someone to lean on and tell his past to without being pitied. He guessed that heats were good for some things…

 

“You think too loud,” Roger teased, pulling his shoes on.

 

Brian turned, coming out of his haze, and smiled, “And you don’t think at all.”

 

Roger made a pained sound, faked having a wound to the heart and dramatically died on the bed. Brian laughed, making his way over to straddle over Roger’s ‘dead’ corpse. He leant down, took his chin gently in his hand, and kissed him.

 

“Ah! The kiss of life!” Roger moaned, sitting up, “My sweet Prince, why doth you revive me?”

 

Brian laughed and hit Roger playfully, “You’re such an ass.”

 

“But I’m your ass,” Roger beamed.

 

“And you have a great ass.”

 

Roger nodded, “So do you,” He said, his hands wondering down to grope the part in question as he leaned in for another kiss, “This is better when you’re not in a horny haze,” He said against Brian’s lips.

 

Brian smiled, “I wouldn’t know, I don’t pay that much attention to anything but sex in my ‘horny haze’.”

 

Roger chuckled, “And you say I’m insufferable?” He asked, sucking at the marks he had left earlier.

 

Brian’s grip on him tightened, “If you don’t want to go another round, Rog, then I wouldn’t do that.”

 

Roger chuckled against his skin, “That and we’ll have to deal with the infamous wrath of Freddie Mercury.”

 

Brian laughed, “We don’t want that,” He said, peeling himself off Roger, “Later?”

 

Roger looked up at him, smiled cockily, “I like the sound of that.”

 

Brian pulled him up, and they walked out together.

 

Freddie was leaning against the opposite wall, beaming, “You sure took your sweet time.”

 

Brian blushed, rubbing his neck.

 

Roger scowled, “Lay off it, Fred,” He said possessively.

 

Freddie groaned, “Great, I forgot that you’d start getting all possessive. _Fun._ ”

 

Brian chuckled, and leant down to kiss Roger’s cheek, “Be nice, Rog, he’s just teasing.”

 

Roger’s face softened, “Fine.”


	6. Death on Two Legs (Dedicated to a Fucker I Used to Know)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian relives his near-death experience in a nightmare. Roger's a sweetheart. I actually want to kill Nate at this point. All is not good in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all lucky I'm feeling creative today. Here's another one! Worst than the last, with the same tone (abuse and rape) only more graphic. I'm concerned with myself at this point. Enjoy!
> 
> PS: That's the full title of Death on Two Legs (Dedicated to...) if y'all didn't know

Brian shouldn’t have said anything. He should’ve kept his big, stupid mouth shut. It always gets him into trouble. But maybe this was the push he needed to finally leave. But maybe this would also kill him.

 

He had overstepped his next to non-existent bounds. Had refused to make Nate dinner, to make him coffee, to do anything until he took down the animal carcasses that were hanging in the kitchen. It would’ve upset anyone sane, but Brian, being vegetarian, felt physically ill at the sight.

 

Nate simply stood, took down the carcasses and took the meat hooks out of them. Brian was stunned, had he actually listened? Had Nate seen his error, seen how crazy he was being? Nate came out of the kitchen brandishing the meat hooks, and punched Brian in the face. Hard.

 

Brian stumbled and fell, his vision blurry. He screamed as something stabbed through his left side, and he turned to see Nate pushing the meat hook through Brian’s waist. Nate moved to straddle Brian, to keep him down and ignored his cries as he did the same on the other side.

 

Brian was bleeding. Badly. “Nate,” He managed, trying to stop the bleeding, his hands shaking with pain, “I’m going to bleed out.”

 

Nate stood, disappeared and came back with some rope and a knife, “Good, maybe then you’ll learn.” He took Brian’s wrists, tied them together and threw the rope over the rafters, pulling it taught, so Brian was forced to sit, his arms outstretched painfully, but his legs couldn’t support his weight with the pain running through them. Nate tied the rope off, and cut some other pieces off to tie down the meat hooks that were deep in Brian’s flesh. So deep they came out the other side. The pressure caused Brian to cry out, his head falling forward with a sob. Blood was pooling around him.

 

“Nate,” His voice was weak, feeble, “Please. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, _please.”_

 

Nate knelt in front of him, forced his head up, a cruel smile on his face, “Don’t you get it? You’re just a _thing,_ another animal for my use. It’s fitting that you’re like this, right in your place. Your rightful place,” He dropped Brian’s chin and walked off, leaving him there.

 

Brian sobbed, he didn’t deserve this. None of this was his fault, he was an idiot for thinking so. He was dying. He could feel it. The bleeding had slowed, but not enough. It had been too long since he had eaten, and he was beginning to feel that pain alongside that in his sides, in his wrists.

 

Nate came out the next morning with more rope. He ignored Brian’s feverish muttering, the sweat that glistened across his skin. He gave him a tiny piece of bread, and Brian ate it quickly, too quickly. When he felt slick start to come out from between his legs he began to freak out. Nate had given him drugs to induce his heat. Nate had tied his ankles to separate points to keep his legs apart, and cut his trousers off. Brian sobbed, finally realising what was happening.

 

“Please,” He begged, “Alpha, please, don’t do this.”

 

In response, Nate tightened the ropes attached to the hooks, and smiled as Brian spasmed in pain, screaming. He forced Brian on his knees, and took him from behind, using the hooks as leverage, revelling in cries of pain escaping from Brian in-between the sobs.

 

He forced himself out, tearing something, and left Brian there, slumped over and bleeding.

 

Brian watched hopelessly as Nate left, and waited for him to leave and then some before screaming for help. He screamed until his throat burned, and then kept going. The door was kicked in, a large man looking around, panicked.

 

Brian managed a sigh of relief, and then passed out.

 

\-------------------------------------- 

 

Brian woke up in hospital. He couldn’t move and was confused, trying to sit up, to do anything.

 

“Mr May, Mr May! Please don’t move,” The nurse said, rushing to him, “You’re in St Georges hospital, you’re safe.”

 

Brian stared, frightened at this stranger touching him. He tried to move away, and a jolt of pain greeted him.

 

The nurse moved back, “Can I call you Brian?”

 

Brian nodded hesitantly.

 

“Brian, my name is Alice, I’m your nurse. Do you remember what happened?”

 

He thought back, began to cry, “Nate, he—he tied me up and…impaled me with meat hooks. He—he raped me, starved me. I don’t remember much else.”

 

The nurse looked at him sadly, “A passer by heard your cries for help and called an ambulance. You were smart to call for help, Brian, you had lost a lot of blood. You’re lucky to be alive, we weren’t sure you were going to make it.”

 

“Nate—” Brian said, frightened.

 

“He’s been arrested, Brian. He came in demanding to see you, and we called the police. You won’t ever need to see him again.”

 

Brian started to cry.

 

“Is that what you want, Brian? He abused you, almost killed you.”

 

Brian shook his head, “I’m relieved,” He managed between his sobs, “How long have I been out?”

 

“8 days. We induced a coma to allow you to heal without reopening wounds. We’ll keep you for a few more weeks, to make sure you don’t have any infections, or that your wounds don’t reopen.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

The nurse smiled, “There’s someone here to see you, are you alright with that?”

 

Brian’s heart rate rocketed, “Who?”

 

“It’s the man who found you, he wants to know that you’re okay.”

 

He calmed down, “Of course. I owe him my life.”

 

The nurse left, and a large man entered the room, “You’re awake!” He exclaimed, relieved.

 

Brian smiled weakly, “That I am, and I have you to thank for it. You saved my life.”

 

The man smiled, “I could hardly ignore the cries that I heard. What happened to you? They wouldn’t tell me. You don’t have to, either! I’m just concerned.”

 

Brian sighed, he deserved to know, and jumped into the story. The man turned out to be from the university that Brian attended for his degree, and offered him a spot to study a PhD if he was interested. Brian jumped at this opportunity to turn a new leaf. In an attempt to put his horrible relationship with Nate behind him.

 

\------------------------------------------------

 

Brian woke up screaming.

 

Roger woke up with a jolt, frightened by the noise, but was quick to console him, “It’s alright, Brian, I’m here. You’re safe.”

 

Brian sobbed against Roger’s chest, “I’m such a mess, I’m sorry.”

 

“No, you’re a brave man who went through some real sick shit and is understandably traumatised by it. We all know that you’re a strong person, Brian, we just need to convince you of that fact.”

 

“Sorry I woke you.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t need beauty sleep.”

 

Brian chuckled, causing Roger to smile.

 

“Never apologise to me again, Bri. I chose you, and everything that you bring. If that means I occasionally get less sleep to help you with past traumas, then so be it.”

 

Brian snuggled closer, “I love you.”

 

Roger was shocked, “What?”

 

Brian looked up, right into Roger’s eyes, “I love you.”

 

Roger surged forward and kissed Brian, “I love you, too, you guitar playing poodle.”

 

Brian hit him playfully, “Don’t call me a poodle.”

 

Roger laughed, “Do you want to tell me about your nightmare?”

 

Brian thought about this, “I don’t think you’d want to hear it.”

 

“It’d help me understand.”

 

“I was reliving the… incident.”

 

Roger had a vague idea of what Brian meant, but there was one problem, “The meat incident or the other incident?”

 

“The meat incident.”

 

Roger’s grip tightened in both anger and protectiveness, “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Can you hold me? It helps me sleep.”

 

Roger looked down and smiled affectionately, “Of course. Anything to help my little poodle,” He said, messing up Brian’s hair playfully.

 

“I am not small, nor am I a poodle,” Brian grumbled, but relaxed into Roger’s arms and slowly fell back asleep.

 

“No, but you are mine,” Roger said into the darkness, before falling asleep himself.  


	7. You And I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date Night! fluff and smut! Shit's gonna get serious sooner or later so enjoy this while you can.

The more Roger heard about ‘Nate’, the more he wanted to hunt him down and kill him for what he did to Brian. The emotional scars were enough, but the physical abuse and the attempted murder! That was just above and beyond the call of douchness. Brian had no clue what had happened to him after the meat hook incident, and even though the nurse told him that he had been arrested, no one knew whether he was sent to jail or set free.

 

Roger decided that he needed to show Brian that not every Alpha is an Omega-hating douche nozzle, and set up a date night. Nothing too fancy, to not scare him off, but something for them, something intimate.

 

Roger surprised Brian on a night that he knew he had nothing on, (thanks Brian’s PA) by arriving at his room with a bunch of flowers (his favourite; lilies) in one hand, and a box of chocolates in the other (also his favourite; hazelnut). Slug across his arm was a basket filled with various goodies, from vegetarian dishes that Roger attempted to cook himself, to deserts and drinks.

 

Brian opened the door in a tired haze, but perked up at the sight of Roger, “Rog! What are you doing here?” He asked, happy to see him.

 

“You, me, date night,” Roger beamed.

 

“I’m not in the mood to go anywhere—”

 

“Do you think you can manage the walk to your lounge room?” Roger asked, an eyebrow raised.

 

Brian chuckled, “I think I can manage that.”

 

Roger had expected that he would be tired, they all were, another reason why he wanted to stage it here.

 

Brian moved to allow Roger into his room, and followed him to the theatre room, watching with a smile as Roger set up a movie, placed a blanket over the coffee table, arranged all the food and drinks onto it and turned to present to him the flowers.

 

“For you, my sweet,” Roger said, one hand behind his back, bowing.

 

Brian chuckled and took the flowers, “You remembered,” He said, smelling the lilies.

 

“Of course I remembered, I’m not totally hopeless.”

 

Brian placed the flowers in a vase and examined the various foods and drinks laid out on the table, “Did you make all of this.”

 

Roger smiled proudly, “I did indeed.”

 

Brian turned, kissed him, “I would’ve been happy with Chinese food or something, but Roger Taylor’s cooking? I’m honoured.”

 

Roger blushed, “Shucks.”

 

“Now to see how horrible it is.”

 

Roger swatted him, “Hey! I can read a recipe you know!”

 

Brian chuckled, “What movie are you subjecting me to?”

 

Roger beamed, “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

 

Brian rolled his eyes, and sat onto the couch, all legs and arms, folding himself into the small piece of furniture. He saw Roger watching him, and patted the couch beside him. Roger sat down, pulled Brian to him.

 

“So what have we here, Mr Chef?” Brian asked.

 

Roger cleared his throat, began to talk in a bad French accent, “Today, I ‘aff prepared ‘ou the traditional vege’arian lasagne and ‘arious o’er sides ‘hat I know ‘hat ‘ou love.”

 

Brian laughed, “You cannot do a French accent.”

 

Roger chuckled, “I know. Eat something, I slaved away for hours making it.”

 

Brian rolled his eyes and served a bit of everything onto the plastic plate that Roger brought. He stabbed at things curiously, before taking a bite out of the lasagne, and actually moaned.

 

Roger watched, curious, “That good?”

 

Brian mumbled an affirmative around his mouth full of food, and swallowed, “Yes! This is really good. It’s been too long since I’ve had homecooked food. You’re a better cook than I expected.”

 

Roger rolled his eyes, “Thanks, I try.”

 

Brian leant over and kissed him, “You can eat too, you know.”

 

Roger mumbled to himself and got himself some food, pressing play on the movie.

 

“’A Clockwork Orange’? How did you know that I loved this movie?”

 

Roger shrugged, “I may or may not have read all of your interviews as they came out, and noticed that you and I both like the book, so I guessed that you also liked the movie.”

 

Brian smiled, “Aren’t you cute.”

 

“No,” Roger huffed, “I am not cute.”

 

Brian laughed, snuggled into him, “But you are cute to me.”

 

Roger mumbled something under his breath. Brian chucked, snuggling into him further, snacking away at the delicious food in front of him, watching the movie. Roger sulked for a bit before lacing his fingers into Brian’s curls, stealing food from his plate cheekily.

 

After the movie finished, Brian turned to look straight up at Roger, “Hello.”

 

Roger smiled, “Hello.”

 

A hand cupped Roger’s face, and felt his cheek, “You’re beautiful.”

 

Roger blushed, “So are you.”

 

They started at each other for a while before Roger leant down to kiss him. Brian found himself arching off the couch to meet him, his hand lacing into his hair. The kiss was deep, passionate. It soon grew heated, with hands moving over each other. Brian moved to straddle Roger, and smiled into the kiss when he felt his hard length against his thigh.

 

“Someone’s excited,” Brian whispered.

 

Roger moved down to suck at Brian’s still marked neck. It had been a little over a week since his heat, but they hadn’t had enough time to have sex since. The move sent a wave of arousal through Brian, and he moaned.

 

“What was that?” Roger asked, looking up through lidded eyes and through large pupils.

 

Brian couldn’t quite formulate a sentence with that look, “Fuck me.”

 

Roger raised an eyebrow, beamed, “That I can do,” And he went back to sucking at Brian’s neck, his hands working at his shirt.

 

Brian’s hands were flat on Roger’s chest, and he simply ripped Roger’s shirt off him.

 

Roger moaned, “I liked that shirt.”

 

Brian looked down, smiled, “Payback’s a bitch.”

 

Roger felt his length twitch at Brian swearing so calmly. He stood, carrying Brian, who simply wrapped his legs around his waist, lent down to kiss him. Roger carried him to the bedroom, but ran into a wall.

 

Brian’s breath was knocked out of him, and he whispered in Roger’s ear, “Careful, you might break me.”

 

“Is that a challenge?” Roger asked lowly.

 

“If you want it to be.”

 

Roger all but kicked the door open and threw Brian unceremoniously onto the bed. Roger worked his way at his trousers, smiling up at the mess of curls that was Brian. There was a wet patch on the front of his boxers, which Roger then discarded, and he took Brian’s long, hard length into his hand.

 

Brian writhed, “Shit,” He moaned.

 

Roger chuckled, “I’ve barely touched you.”

 

Brian looked at him, “I’ve barely touched myself.”

 

Roger moaned at the insinuation, and lent down to envelope Brian’s length. Brian moaned, arching off the bed, hissed, “Rog—”

 

Hearing Brian moan his name, writhe underneath him, because of him, made Roger painfully hard. He moaned around him, sending vibrations down Brian’s length, and Roger smiled as he hissed at the pleasure.

 

With one hand around the base, Roger deepthroated Brian, his tip hitting his throat.

 

“Ahh— _fuck_.” Brian swore, “I’m... close—shit.”

 

Roger smiled, doubled his attempts, he could feel Brian’s thrusts, however unintended, and they were becoming erratic. Roger licked up the underside and across the tip before deepthroating him again, moaning. A calculated move to cause Brian’s orgasm. A move that worked. With a cry, and Roger’s name on his lips, Brian came. Roger swallowed everything, and grinned up at Brian, cum dripping from his mouth.

 

Brian smiled hazily, “I look good on you,” he said lowly.

 

Roger licked his lips and surged up to meet Brian’s. He could taste himself on Roger’s lips, and it just turned him on. Brian was undoing Roger’s trousers, or was trying to. Roger stood, stripped himself for Brian to see. Brian moved to the edge of the bed, went to kneel in front of him.

 

“No,” Roger said.

 

Brian looked up, confused, “But—”

 

Roger pushed Brian back onto the bed, “Let me take care of you.”

 

Brian obeyed, not used to Alphas being caring, giving him pleasure without allowing themselves to have some. Without making him do the same to them. Alphas were forceful, possessive, and bossy in bed.

 

Roger sensed this, “I’m not like other Alphas,” He said, covering Brian in kisses, marking him softly, “I care about your pleasure, too, Brian.”

 

Brian blushed, “You’re fabulous.”

 

Roger smiled, “Why, thank you,” He said, kissing him, “I’m also horny, so allow me to provide you with round two.”

 

Brian wrapped his legs around Roger’s hips, loved the feeling of Roger poking him, “I like the sound of that.”

 

Roger hummed, his fingers against Brian’s hole, entering him and stretching him. Brian moaned, and despite just orgasming, his dick was painfully hard again. Roger was pumping fingers inside him, readying him, the way he’s used to without the assistance of a heat.

 

“Where are your condoms?” Roger asked through laboured breathing.

 

“Oh, umm, ahh—” Brian moaned, trying to get his brain to work, “Drawer,” He pointed and groaned at the loss when Roger moved to get one. Brian watched intently as Roger rolled in down his length, and moved back over him, between his legs.

 

“I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name loud enough for the neighbours to hear,” Roger said into the shell of Brian’s ear.

 

“Yes, Roger, please,” Brian moaned, opening his legs further, “Mark me, knot me, fuck me, please,” He was desperate, and he shouldn’t be, but there was no shame.

 

Roger groaned at the sound of Brian’s begs, “As you wish.” He lined himself up, and slowly pushed himself in. Once he was in to the hilt, his tensed, stilling, allowing Brian to adjust with get self-control. He felt Brian relax and started the relentless rhythm, pent up from their activities from earlier. It was fast, it was rough, but it was just how they both liked it. Brian’s moans grew louder, showing how close he was to his second climax, and Roger’s moans followed suit.

 

Brian came with a scream, just as Roger said he would, with his name on Brian’s lips, and the sight, as well as Brian clenching around him, pushed Roger over as well. They climaxed in each other’s arms, and fell quickly into a wakeless slumber.   


	8. You and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorter one to build up to the next one, which will probably be quite long. Nate's back! The bastard.

It’s time for their next tour before they even realised the last one ended. Roger and Brian had fallen into domestic bliss, and management just used it as an excuse to book one less room for the band, given that they would stay in each other’s regardless. They started noticing the strangest things, and began to get annoyed by them. Like how they couldn’t easily interact with each other on stage. They weren’t hiding their relationship from the public, but they weren’t going to announce it either. They let people talk, ignoring the crazy theories in favour for what little privacy they had.

 

It was ‘The Works’ tour, they were going everywhere, and both Roger and Brian were happy that they didn’t need to go anywhere that the other wasn’t. Having a relationship on a tour when that person wasn’t there was hard, and it made it so much easier that they had each other there every second they wanted them to be (which was basically every second of every day). They were backstage before a show, doing a VIP signing session. Most fans wanted all of their signatures, which was fine, some only one, which was also fine, some two, rare but still fine. It wasn’t until someone asked for everyone but Brian’s that they thought it was weird, a bit rude. It didn’t cost and extra, so why leave him out?

 

Brian looked up, confused as to why he was left out, and immediately tensed up. He was lucky that the man was preoccupied with Freddie to allow Brian time to compose himself, but his heart was beating at 10 miles an hour, his breathing sped up. Roger noticed these changes, and put a hand on his thigh.

 

“Are you alright?” Roger asked lowly.

 

Brian scribbled on a piece of paper in front of him, not trusting himself to speak. His writing was messy, rushed and done with shaky hands.

 

 _That’s Nate,_ it read.

 

Roger crumpled the paper in his hands from the anger that overcame him. He had the balls to turn up now? After all this time; Roger would kill him.

 

Nate turned to Brian after getting Freddie and John’s signatures, and smiled, “So how’d you get here then? Suck some dick, mime playing guitar?” He turned to Roger, “He must really have you whipped if you let him do all that out there.”

 

Brian’s trying to control his anxiety, but Roger’s being controlled by anger and trying not to murder the man where he stood, rubbing a hand on Brian’s thigh under the table in an attempt to calm him. Freddie and John, having no clue what was happening, were confused, but were ready to protect Brian just from Nate’s aggressiveness.

 

“If you don’t leave right now, I will call security,” Roger manages between gritted teeth.

 

Nate laughed, “That’s all? _Please,”_ He turned back to Brian, “I don’t remember you being a good enough lay to go through all of this for you. What, do you fuck all three of them?” He asks, looking at Freddie and John, “At once? You’re such a whore it wouldn’t surprise me.”

 

Roger stood, fists clenched, “Please leave. Now. I won’t ask again.”

 

Nate turned back to the drummer, “Wow you really are whipped. A little advice; he learns his place after a while, just be rough with him. He’ll cry, but it’s just an act to get sympathy.”

 

Brian’s trying his hardest not to cry, from the words, from the memories that this man embodies, from the phantom pain in his sides. He refuses to give Nate the satisfaction of seeing him like that. He stands himself, surprising everyone, “Nate,” He states.

 

Nate turns, amused, “Brian.”

 

“I’m surprised your tiny brain remembered that information. Now, if you’d be so kind, please fuck off.”

 

A wave of rage ran through Nate, “Why, you little—”

 

Roger lent forward, intercepting Nate, grabbing the lapel of his shirt in his fists, “You lay one finger on him and I will fucking murder you.”

 

Nate looks him dead in the eyes, but turns to Brian and smiles, “If you think you’ve seen the last of me, then you’re stupider than I thought.”

 

The security team rushes in and drags Nate out of the venue. Roger yells after them, “If you ever see him again arrest him on sight! He’s not allowed anywhere near Brian.” He was taking the threat very seriously and swore to never let Brian out of his sight again.

 

Freddie stands calmly, apologising to the fans and saying that they have to cut the session short, but they are welcome to come back tomorrow. Roger follows Brian backstage, aware that Freddie and John were behind him. Brian falls heavily into a chair, his head in his hands, his shoulders wracking from sobs.

 

Roger squats in front of him, hands on his knees, “You were so brave, standing up to him like that.”

 

“Why him?” Brian looks up, eyes red from tears, “Why now? I greatly appreciate your help, Roger, but I’d prefer to not relive my memories of him.”

 

Roger nods, caressing Brian’s hand that he captured, “I understand, and I’ll be here the whole time, beside you. I won’t let you out of my sight. I will murder him myself if I see him again.”

 

Brian laughed, “Don’t get blood on your hands, Rog, it’ll ruin your skin.”

 

Roger chuckled, “Wear gloves, check.”

 

Brian shook his head, “Not what you were meant to take from that but sure.”

 

Freddie cleared his throat, “If I may ask, dear, who the hell was that?”

 

Brian looked up, he hadn’t realised that Freddie and John were in the room, “He—” He sighed, “Nate is my ex. He’s a complete dick. He was abusive and… he, ahh—raped me once or twice,” He said softly.

 

Freddie scowled, “That bastard.”

 

John was staring, wide-eyed.

 

“We won’t let him anywhere near you, darling, you’ve been through enough,” Freddie announced, “And we’re always here for you.”

 

John nodded, “We’re family.”

 

Brian smiled, the scents that the two Betas were releasing were calming him, “Thanks, guys. God, I’m a mess.”

 

Roger squeezed his hand, “No, you’re not. Stop beating yourself up, Bri. Next time I hear you blame yourself I’ll—” He paused, trying to think of a punishment.

 

“You’ll what?” Brian asked, curious, eyebrow raised.

 

Roger smiled, pulled Brian down so he could whisper, “I’ll have to punish you.”

 

Freddie laughed, “I don’t know what you said, nor do I want to know, but it seems like we’re interrupting something.”


	9. Funny How Love is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A break from the impending drama, because believe me, there will be MAJOR DRAMA coming. Uni starts on Monday, so don't be too surprised if updates aren't as often, but I'll try to keep them coming!

 

Roger kept good on his promise; he never let Brian out of his sight. At first, I annoyed Brian, not being able to go anywhere without the watchful eye of his mate, but he never voiced this; he knew why Roger was doing it, and he appreciated that Roger cared enough to do it. On the rare occasions that Roger couldn’t be with him, a member of the security team would step in to make sure nothing happened to him. Brian often found himself scanning through crowds, trying to find Nate, to make sure that he wasn’t following him.

 

He never found him, but that’s because Nate had mastered the art of tailing people without their knowledge.

 

Roger burst into the hotel room after a solo interview, instantly relieved to see Brian.

 

Brian rolled his eyes, “I’m still alive, Rog.”

 

Roger chuckled, “Just wanted to make sure.”

 

“This is starting to get on my nerves; all this hiding, this suspicion. I just want to live like we used to, just you and me, with no fear of him.”

 

Roger smiled, grabbed his hands, “You’ll always have me, Bri, but we need to make sure you’re safe from him first.”

 

Brian sighed, nodding.

 

Roger enveloped him in a hug, “I love you will my whole being, Brian May, so I’m allowed to be concerned about you.”

 

Brian smiled, nodded, “I know. I just feel like we’re waiting for him to appear, like it’s inevitable.”

 

Roger held Brian’s shoulders, looked into his eyes, “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel like that.” Roger manhandles him, “How about I take your mind off it, make you feel good?” He lays Brian down on the bed, looking at him for permission.

 

Brian nodded, suddenly aware of how much he craved Roger’s touch.

 

Roger smiled and began to dutifully taking off Brian’s clothes, kissing each inch of skin that he exposes. Brian squirmed under the attention, and Roger stopped, “What’s wrong?”

 

Brian laughs, “You’d think that after all the time that I’d be used to you pleasuring me with no thought for yourself, but I’m not.”

 

Roger smiled, “You better get used to it soon, because it’s not going to change,” He stands and begins to strip, aware that Brian was watching his every move. They admire just how hard they both had gotten in such a short frame of time. It had been too long since they’d been together, with Nate hanging over their heads. This was a welcome release, exactly what they needed.

 

Roger climbed over Brian, grinning, “Tell me what you want,” He said, his voice an octave lower than usual.

 

Brian smiled and flipped them so he was straddling Roger, he lent down and whispered, “I want to ride your fat cock until morning.”

 

Roger moaned, “Fuck, Brian, wash your mouth out with soap.”

 

Brian chuckled, “I can think of better things for my mouth to be doing,” He said, moving down Roger’s lean body.

 

Roger pulled at Brian’s curls, “You haven’t touched me in weeks, if you do that I won’t last long.”

 

Brian smiled up at him, “Somehow I think that you can gain your second wind,” He said, and before Roger could protest, wrapped his lips around Roger’s length.

 

Roger moaned, hissing at the sensation; he wasn’t lying when he said that he hadn’t been touched in weeks, and it was showing. With each lick, each bob, Roger felt himself sinking further and further into pleasure, losing himself at the feeling, the sight, of Brian blowing him.

 

“Jesus, _fuck, Brian!”_ He all but screamed as Brian licked a trail up the underside of his length, tongued his slit and then proceeded to deep throat him. Roger’s hands flew into Brian’s hair, guiding him, pulling at the curls that were bouncing so lushly. Brian simply looked up at Roger, his hazel eyes black with lust, and did something completely unexpected with his hands.

 

A finger pressed against Roger’s ass, and though it surprised him, the feeling wasn’t all together uncomfortable. When Brian’s finger slipped in, found a certain spot and then curled upwards, it had Roger arching off the bed, screaming in pleasure, and coming harder than he had ever come before.

 

“Jesus,” Roger moaned, coming down from his high, as Brian kissed his way up Roger’s stomach, up his chest and to his lips. Roger could taste himself on Brian’s swollen lips, and it had him twitching in arousal. “What was that?” He asked when Brian pulled away.

 

Brian was beaming, “That is a little secret called the prostate, my darling Roger.”

 

“I’ve been having the wrong kind of sex,” Roger said.

 

Brian laughed, “Well I’m not,” He reached down to stroke Roger’s hardening length, “And I think you’ll scream my name either way.”

 

“Jesus, Brian, it’s like you’re a whole ‘nother person in bed.”

 

Brian simply looked at him, “Maybe I am. Are you complaining?”

 

“I’m the Alpha, remember? I should be topping you.”

                                                                   

Brian grinned, “You still technically are.” He leant closer, “Are you saying that you don’t like me bossing you around?”

 

Roger bit his lip, “No, no! Fuck—” Brian had fingered over his slit again, “Damn it, you can’t expect me to think straight like this.”   

 

Brian watched as Roger writhed in pleasure beneath him, and all he was doing was stroking him to hardness again. He felt a rush of heat go through him, and slick run down his thigh.

 

Roger had triggered his heat again.

 

Roger smelt the sweetness in the air, and swore, “Shit, Brian, you’re in heat again, aren’t you?”

 

Brian nodded, “Yes, I am.”

 

“And I have to deal with you being a horny mess?”

 

Brian chuckled, “Better than me dealing with you being a horny mess.”

 

“Shut up and fuck me.”

 

“As you wish, Alpha,” Brain could feel that Roger was fully erect again, and without breaking eye contact, positioned himself over him and slid down.

 

“Fuck—What—ahh, damn it. What about condoms?” Was all Roger managed.

 

Brian had tensed, trying not to hurt himself in the heat of the moment, “Fuck condoms,” He said, “Whatever happens, happens.” Before Roger could answer, he had his hands on Roger’s abs, and was bouncing up and down with vigour, desperate for release.  He threw his head back in pleasure when Roger hit his prostate, moaning incoherently.

 

Roger, deep in a pull of lust and pleasure, was watching this, his hands gripping Brian’s hips, pulling him down to meet his thrusts. Brian’s body was laid out to him, naked and lithe, but he was bouncing on his dick, unashamed, his curls flying around him, his muscles tense with pleasure.

 

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t committing the sight to memory.

 

“Fuck, _Roger,”_ Brian moaned loudly, “You’re so big.”

 

Roger hummed, he loved the way Brian’s filter melted away during his heat, or during any time such as this, “So tight, so wet, _shit, Brian.”_

 

They were reaching their climaxes quickly, quicker than normal. It had been a while, and they were desperate. Brian’s movement became erratic, and they could both feel Roger’s knot forming, tying them together. They came together, each other’s names on their lips, and snuggled together, falling into a sleep soon to be interrupted.


	10. Save Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit goes down. Nate finds Brian because he's a nerd, and doesn't take kindly to Brian's sass. The poodle has no sense of self-preservation. Assault and what not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to have the next chapter up before uni, but if not sorry but not sorry about leaving it with this cliff hanger... hehehehe

It’s been several weeks since Nate turned back up, and Brian was desperate for some alone time. When Roger fell asleep one night, Brian snuck out to a nearby park to stargaze, because he’s such a nerd. He was readying himself to lay down on the grass when his vision went black.

 

He woke up with painfully sore wrists. They were tied above his head, too tight, and he was hanging from them. He stood to take pressure off them and looked around, panicking. Where was he? Why was he tied up? There was a TV in front of him reporting his disappearance, and naming Nate as the main suspect.

 

_Nate._

Brian watches the interviews with the band, watching sadly as they beg however took him to return him, all of them distraught and Roger even looking close to tears.

 

“That blonde really cares about you,” A voice said from the darkness, “No clue why,” Nate walked into view, barely surprising Brian.

 

“What do you call this, then?” Brian asks. He’s panicking but he’ll be damned if he lays down and takes this like he used to.

 

“Revenge,” Nate says, standing in front of Brian, “You’ve got quite a mouth on you, that Alpha hasn’t been doing his job if you think you can talk to me like that.”

 

“ _Roger,”_ Brian says pointedly, “Is doing a magnificent job at being a caring mate, something you could never quite manage.”

 

Nate frowned, “What’s it like, fucking an Alpha and two Betas at once?”

 

“I wouldn’t know.”

 

Nate laughed, “You can’t convince me that they want you around without a screw every other day.”

 

“They want me around because I play lead guitar and have a fun personality. Not that you’d know.”

 

“So they were desperate and you were all they found.”

 

Brian laughed, “Actually, I’m the one who started the band. Roger came in next, then Freddie replaced our singer and we found John.”

 

Nate laughed, “You’re lying. You were always good at that.”

 

Brian rolled his eyes, “No, you were just good at convincing yourself of what you wanted to believe.”

 

Nate’s expression grew dark, “You really need to watch that mouth of yours, it’ll get you in trouble some day.”

 

“Been there, done that.”

 

Nate punched Brian in the gut.

 

Brian convulsed and lent forward to spit in Nate’s face, “Go to Hell.”

 

Nate growled at him, “If you’re not careful, you might end up there first.”

 

The TV filled the silence with reports of mass hysteria at Brian’s disappearance, with fans out in the streets looking for him all over the place.

 

“I will never understand why anyone would care so much about you. An _Omega.”_

 

Brian laughed darkly, “Not everyone is so overcome by their pregistaces that they can’t like a person for who they are and not what they are.”

 

“You’re an _Omega,_ that’s all I need to know, If you don’t learn your place soon, I might have to make you.”

 

“Try me. I’m not as weak as I used t be. I know what it means to love, and you sure as hell ain’t it.”

 

Nate scowled and walked off, returning with two meat hooks in his hands, a smile brandishing his face.

 

 _Oh god,_ Brian thought, _anything but that._ But he forced himself to smile, “Try me, bitch.”

 

Nate surged forward and cut Brian's shirt off, exposing his scars. Nate admired them and smiled, “Good to know that I left you with a mark more permanent than his.”

 

“You could never compare to him.”

 

“Roger,” Nate experimented, “Roger Taylor.”

 

“Well it just sounds stupid when you say it.”

 

Nate slapped him, “Keep your mouth shut, _Omega.”_

 

Brian spat the blood back at him, “Make me.”

 

Nate placed the hooks on the table and tore a strip of fabric from Brian’s shirt to use as a gag, tight enough to cut into his lips. Nat smiled and turned back to grab the hooks. Brian pulled himself up and kicked Nate down, laughing through the fabric.

 

Nate got up and punched him in the face, stabbed a hook through his side, above the tougher scared tissue, reveling in his screams. Brian looked Nate dead in the eyes as he pushed the second hook through his side and bit down on the gag to prevent himself from screaming.

 

“You’re a feisty one. I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”

 

Nate returned with rope, and Brian found himself rolling his eyes, _with this again._ He mumbling into his gag.

 

Nate tore it off, “What was that?”

 

“I said, I’m getting de-sha vu,” He said with a smirk.

 

Nate replaced the gag, “You won’t be smiling when I’m done with you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Brian managed. He was in a shit load of pain, but he wasn’t going to let Nate get to him, take any pleasure from seeing him suffer. So he put on a brave face and hid his tears.

 

Nate tied the rope to the hook in his left side and tied the other end to the wall, tight enough to pull at his flesh. He moved to relieve the pain. Nate did the same on the other side, rendering Brian unable to move. They were both pulling at him, but with every attempt to move one got better, the other worse. So he stayed still.

 

“In your rightful place again,” Nate smiled.

 

Brian watched him leave and waited until the door shut before letting his head drop and screaming out in pain, one that he was holding in. He prayed that they’d find him soon, or he wouldn’t survive. A day. That was his record and that almost killed him. A day. He could hold out that long. A tear escaped as the hooks tore at his flesh. _Think of Roger,_ Brian chanted, _think of Roger. He’ll find me. He’ll save me from this hell._ The faces of his family flashed through his mind followed by Freddie, then John, and finally Roger. Roger stayed there, calming him, helping him numb the pain.

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

He was awoken by Nate the next day, being slapped in the face. He was drenched in sweat, running a fever. Just like last time. He was also incredibly hungry, but knew better than to accept any food from Nate.

 

“Hungry?” Nate asked, moving a star curl from Brian’s eyes.

 

“Go to Hell,” Brian said clearly enough for Nate to understand him.

 

“You seem to like saying that. He’s not coming; your little Prince, your knight in shining armour. No one will find you. You’ll die as you deserve to, as an animal.”

 

Brian rolled his eyes.

 

Nate pulled a knife out of his jeans, brandishing it, “What would happen if I cut off your finger? You play guitar with your left, don’t you?”

 

Brian shook his head, lying. If Nate cut a finger off then he wouldn’t be able to play guitar either at all, or as well depending on which finger it was.

 

Nate cut a slash across Brian’s chest, “Don’t lie to me, you little bitch. You think you can get away with talking to me like this? Because you can’t.” He slashed at Brian’s exposed chest a few more time, watching him squirm.

 

“I could ruin you,” Nate continued, “Ruin the pretty little picture that you’ve painted for yourself. I could ruin your life.”

 

 _Because you haven’t done that already,_ Brian thought.

 

He raise the knife up, needing to rise onto his toes to reach Brian’s hands, and placed it against his left index finger. Brian was breathing faster now. He wouldn’t be able to play without that finger, at all. But he wouldn’t beg. He refused to beg. Instead he looked into Nate’s eyes, _try me._

 

Nate began to cut, but didn’t get far before the door was kicked in by a SWAT team. The poured in, guns raised, yelling at Nate to get down, to drop the knife. A strange noise erupted from Brian. It was a mix between a sigh of relief and a cry of pent up pain. Nate dropped the knife, his hands behind his head and was dragged out by the SWAT team. The few that remained worked away at letting Brian down. They cut the ropes off the hooks, releasing the pressure on his flesh and took of the gag.

 

“Mr May,” The officer said, “You’re alright now, we have you.”

 

Brian laughed darkly, his body heavy. He fell forward as the ropes around his wrists were cut, too weak to support himself. The officer caught him, and yelled behind him “We need an ambulance now!”

 

“Roger—” Brian managed, his wrists stinging badly. He couldn’t feel his hands, and he couldn’t remember how long they had been numb.

 

“Mr Taylor and the rest of Queen are alright, sir, just worried sick. And rightfully so. You’re a mess.”

 

Brian tried to chuckle, but couldn’t quite manage it, “Thanks. I try.” He felt himself drifting, becoming heavier.

 

“Stay with me, Mr May! He’s passing out, where’s that ambulance?” The officer shouted.

 

Brian may have been hallucinating, but he swore he saw Roger walk in and smile at him before he passed out.      

 


	11. Seven Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's some closure so that the impending break won't be so bad. It's not as long as the last one, it's just Brian waking up and the band trying to comfort him. Enjoy!

“Guitarist Brian May of Queen has been found, but was gravely injured and is now in a critical condition. The band have cancelled the rest of their tour to allow him to recover, and apologize to their fans. Our thoughts go out to Queen and their families at this time.”

 

Brian awoke to a news report about him. He opened his heavy eyes so find Roger sat beside him, head in his hands, looking dishevelled and not in a good way. In a ‘I haven’t slept in a week and I’ve been worried sick’ sort of way. He was hunched over, defeated, and his shoulders convulsed with sobs.

 

“Roger—” Brian managed, his voice scratchy and weak.

 

Roger’s head shot up quicker than anything. His hair was messy, his eyes red with tears, his skin splotchy. “Brian! You’re awake!” A smile spread across his face.

 

“You think too loud,” Brian said gruffly.

 

Roger laughed, “I thought I didn’t think at all.”

 

Brian laughed, but stopped when pain shot up his sides.

 

Roger rose, concerned, “Try not to move. You were hurt pretty badly.” Anger flashed in his eyes, “You had to go into surgery to fix the flesh on your waist.”

 

So the hooks stretched them that badly? “I’m alright now, Rog.”

 

Roger scuffed, “I wouldn’t say that. They still don’t know if you can move your fingers, Bri, having your circulation cut off for that long. And don’t even get me started about how much blood you’d lost.”

 

Brian tried to move his arm to comfort him. It was impossibly heavy, but he managed. Still no feeling in his hands, “Roger.”

 

Roger looked up, placed a hand over Brian’s, “Yeah?”

 

Brian smiled, “I think I showed him who’s boss.”

 

Roger laughed, shook his head. He laughed hard. He lent forward into Brian, still laughing, “God you’re an idiot. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?”

 

Brian shook his head, curls everywhere, “Nope. I have too much pride.”

 

“Seems like you,” Roger looked up from his spot near Brian’s chest, and his face changed. Became softer, “Are you alright?”

 

Brian considered lying, telling Roger that he was fine, “No.”

 

Roger seemed surprised by his honesty.

 

“I was tied up and left hanging from the ceiling, had meat hooks stabbed through my sides and tied to walls tight enough to tear and stretch my flesh. I don’t think I’m alright, to be honest with you,” Brian said, tears in his eyes.

 

Roger nodded, “I saw the footage of when they found you. It was horrific what he did to you. Like you were some kind of animal.”

 

“I’ve told you; that’s how he viewed me.”

 

Roger’s eyes turned possessive, “That bastard is going to rot in jail. He’ll never touch you again.”

 

Brian smiled weakly, “Not with you around he won’t.” A flash of guilt, “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

 

“Brian this isn’t your fault—"

 

“I left,” Brian interrupted, “I left the safety of you, of the security team to go star gazing because I’m a nerd. That’s how he found me. I’m an idiot.”

 

Roger nodded, “I will agree that you’re a nerd.”

 

Brian laughed, “God I don’t deserve you.”

 

Roger placed a hand on Brian’s cheek, one of the few places that he knew wouldn’t hurt him, “You deserve everything in the world.”

 

Brian smiled, “I’d kiss you, but I can’t move and I’d think it’d hurt.”

 

Roger smiled, and kissed his cheek, “Heal first. Then I can kiss you senseless.”

 

“I like the sound of that.”

 

Roger sighed, “I should probably tell Fred and Deac that you’re awake. They haven’t slept since you disappeared, none of us have.”

 

“How long was I out?” Brian asked, shocked.

 

“A week.”

 

“Just like last time,” He muttered.

 

“You need to heal. I’ll be right back, I’ll get the others.”

 

Brian sat in silence waiting for Roger to come back. He had his own room, but that didn’t surprise him. His limbs were heavy, and he concentrated on moving his fingers. The harder he tried, the more frustrated he’d get. Tears started rolling down his face as he watched his unmoving fingers. He wouldn’t be able to play, he would be ruined. Queen would replace him, find a new guitarist.

 

Roger came back flanked by Freddie and John and took one look at Brian and rushed to his side, “What is it? Is it the pain? We can give you more morphine. We—”

 

“I can’t move my fingers,” Brian murmured.

 

“Oh, Brian,” Freddie was frowning, “You need time to heal, darling, just give it time. Try not to overthink it.” He sat beside him, stroked Brian’s arm.

 

“But, the band—” Brian tried.

 

“Fuck that, dear.”

 

“Brian, all that matters is that you’re alright,” John added, “Don’t worry about the band, I’m sure our fans will understand.”

 

“How are you so calm?” Brian asked.

 

“Oh, I’m not. Not of us are,” John said, “But what’s the point of getting annoyed with you, when you’ve done nothing wrong?”

 

“We want to murder that bastard, dear, don’t you worry,” Freddie smiled, “But we also want to support you through healing, and that’s more important.”

 

Brian smiled, “I’m so lucky to have you guys.”

 

“And we’re lucky to have you, dear. So stop worrying about everything and heal.”

 

Brian nodded.

 

“How are you feeling, love?”

 

Brian laughed darkly, “Not all to good, but I think that’s reasonable.”

 

Roger laughed, “Nothing about this is reasonable, Brian.”

 

“I guess so. You guys look horrible.”

 

John laughed, “That’s rich coming from you.”

 

“Haven’t you guys slept?”

 

“No, not really. We’ve been watching over you to make sure that you were safe,” John smiled, “Don’t need you disappearing again. The first time was scary enough.”

 

Freddie and Roger nodded.

 

“So, what now? You cancelled the tour?” Brian asked.

 

“Of course we cancelled the tour, dear,” Freddie said, “You are in no state to play.”

 

“Next we take that fucker to court and make him rot in jail,” Roger sneered.

 

“But—”

 

“Brian, I’m not letting him go after what he did to you,” Roger’s eyes gave away just how emotional he was about it.

 

“The world will still love you after finding out, dear,” Freddie added.

 

“What? No, I’m not worried about this,” Brian said, “I’m worried about them finding out that I’m—”

 

“Oh,” Roger said, realising, “You’re worried about our reputation when they find out you’re an Omega.”

 

Brian nodded, ashamed.

 

“Oh, darling,” Freddie said, “Our fans won’t care, they love you for who you are, and nothing will change that. If anyone gives you grief for it, then they’ll have to go through us.”

 

Having the two Betas in the room was already calming Brian down, but Freddie’s words were so thoughtful, and his fears diminished.

 

Freddie squeezed his hands, “You rest, dear. We’ll be here if you need us.”

 

“Okay, Freddie,” Brian smiled, “Thank you all so much, I love you all.”

 

“We love you too, Brian,” Roger smiled, smoothing Brian’s hair away from his face as he difted off to sleep.  


End file.
